


Fury

by unfolded73



Series: The Lostverse [3]
Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Angsty Doctor (Doctor Who), F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-16
Updated: 2017-04-16
Packaged: 2018-10-19 15:54:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 988
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10643142
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unfolded73/pseuds/unfolded73
Summary: Originally published July 2008.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Wow, I apologize for the second person. I never did it before, and I swear I never will again.

It’s pretty standard danger, as far as these things go.

You get separated from him and Donna, and although you try to be quiet, the armed guards manage to pick you up within an hour. You get taken back to the palace and processed through their ridiculously efficient court system, so that by the time he finds you, you’re within minutes of having your head permanently separated from your body. Which is, you have to admit, bad. Still, nothing the two of you haven’t faced before, back when you were so very young. Back before the lever room.

The Doctor saves you with quick thinking and quick talking, and Donna’s skill with a blunt object to the back of some heads doesn’t hurt. The three of you run for your lives, and you remember the rush, the thrill of this. This may not be the main reason that you wanted to be back with him, but it’s one of the reasons. You can’t help whooping as you dash with him toward the TARDIS.

As soon as the doors close behind you and you start to catch your breath, you know that something is wrong. He drops your hand and makes for the console without a word, without a glance in your direction. He takes the ship into the Vortex, his hands adjusting the controls with vicious precision. Donna raises an eyebrow at him, then asks if you’re hurt. You have to think about it; adrenaline does that. 

When his piloting tasks are complete, he leaves the room abruptly. You are baffled and so is Donna, but she tells you to follow him. 

You find him in the bedroom you share, standing in the middle of the room, his shoulders rising and falling with rapid breaths. His fists are clenched. You approach him cautiously, not sure what’s come over him. Whether this is anger or fear, you aren’t sure.

He turns and his movement toward you is lightening quick. He’s clutching you, kissing you with what can only be described as desperation. His tongue fills your mouth, his teeth scrape your lips. It is shocking and fiercely erotic, and you melt completely into his arms, allowing him to have his way in this.

The hands that move to unbutton your blouse are shaking, and one of the buttons pops off and skitters across the floor in his haste. “Please,” he’s whispering. “Please, _please_.”

You still his hands and work to remove your own clothes and he watches, his eyes dark, his jaw clenched. You calmly sit on the bed to take off your shoes and he is undressing too, quickly and without finesse. When you stand to unbutton your trousers he is on you again, his mouth pressing wetly against your neck, sucking, biting hard enough to leave a mark. The feel of his teeth against your skin sends a bolt of desire straight down to your center and you grind your hips against him. He groans and clutches you, his eyes shut tight. 

“This is why I never …” he grates out. _Never what?_ you want to ask, but you don’t.

It’s been a month since you came back to him, so sex between you is still somewhat new. This, what he’s doing, is completely new. You sort of want to ask him what this is about, but you sort of don’t want to break the spell. You’re afraid to break the spell, afraid that what is underlying this is fury at you for almost dying.

When you are both naked he presses you to the bed. He is between your legs and you feel him, so hard, against your belly. He reaches down and grasps your knee, hiking your leg up against him. In one hard thrust he’s inside you. There was no foreplay to speak of, but you find you didn’t need any; his frantic desire for you was more than enough. 

His rhythm is fast, his movements rough. With every thrust his pelvis hits you hard and just right, and you aren’t going to have any problem reaching completion, you can tell already. You look at his face but his eyes are closed, his teeth bared, his breath coming in sharp hisses. He isn’t talking. 

Your orgasm hits you like a train and you cry out, your head pressed back against the pillows. He grunts and is pushing into you even harder. You start to hear words resolve from the noises he’s making. “Don’t … don’t … don’t … ” You hold on tight. You try to kiss him but his mouth is out of reach. “Don’t, don’t, don’t leave … don’t leave …”

He doesn’t shout when he comes, just stills above you, his mouth wide open. You can feel him pulsing inside you. With gentle strokes down his back you try to soothe him, praying that this violent coupling has fixed whatever it was that was broken. “I love you. ‘M not leaving. I’m here, I’m here,” you murmur, hoping your words will stick. You let him lie on top of you for a long time, his cock soft inside you, his breath hot against your shoulder.

Finally he rolls off of you and you lie still, watching him stare at the ceiling. “I’m sorry,” he says. 

“For what?”

He looks at you and winces. “I hurt you,” he says, reaching out and touching the mark he left on your neck.

You give him a half-smile. “It’s all right. It felt good at the time.” His cheek is rough under your hand as you stroke his face. “This is going to happen again, you know. In case you’ve forgotten, I’m jeopardy-friendly.”

“I know.” His sigh is heavy. “I don’t remember it being so terrifying before.”

His words break your heart a little. “I’m sorry I got into trouble,” you say. _I’m sorry you love me too much,_ you don’t say.

He says nothing, just grabs you and hugs you tight.


End file.
